


Five Weddings

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babies, Breastfeeding, Childbirth, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Drunk Sex, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Minor Chris Argent/Melissa McCall, Minor Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Minor Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Ethan/Jackson Whittemore, Minor Lydia Martin/Jordan Parrish, Minor Natalie Martin/Bobby Finstock, Multi, My Goal is to make you cry and laugh at the same time, Only a Few Babies, Past Character Death, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Pregnancy, SO MANY WEDDINGS, Semi-Anonymous Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, There are Sad Bits, Twins, Unplanned Pregnancy, Versatile Chris Argent, Versatile Sheriff Stilinski, Weddings, stiles is something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 21:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: Sometimes Noah thinks that everyone in the pack is connected except him, especially as he looks ahead to a long year of weddings. Then he finds out that maybe there's a place for him after all, and one unexpected night may change his entire future.





	Five Weddings

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the prompt Grow at Fullmoon Ficlet. Yes, grow. Like pack growth. Baby growth. Growth of a human. All kinds of growth! It was supposed to be short... it's kind of not. On the other hand, the world needs more long fics about the elders in the Teen Wolf world (that just may be my age speaking). And froggy, who listened to me natter on while writing, <3 so much to you.
> 
> The only constant tone in this fic is Noah's bewilderment.

**_Scott & Malia…_ **

 

Scott and Malia get married in the middle of the Preserve. It’s near the old Hale house, a clearing by the river, near the cliff that looks out over Beacon Hills. They don’t bother with a tent, because by now they figure the gods owe them a good night or two. They get lucky, and it works out, or maybe there’s magic involved. Noah doesn’t really want to question it.

“They’re so young,” Melissa whispers. She clutches Noah’s hand on one side and Chris’s on the other.

“They’ll be fine,” Noah assures her, his voice gruff. He gets a bit choked up as he watches Scott and Malia exchange vows; the kid is practically a son to him.

And he remembers what it’s like, being barely out of college, knowing there’s still more school or training to go and that nothing in life is certain. He’d married young, too, although he and Claudia had taken their time before having Stiles. Not on purpose, necessarily; sometimes things just work out that way. But he remembers thinking that there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to be with her.

Scott looks at Malia that way. Still does, even though it’s been five years now since they first got together. Noah figures that’s not changing, and he’s not going to deny them their happiness.

It’s the way the whole pack seems to be going, really. Pairing up. Bringing in new folks as the pack goes out and rescues the stragglers who have no packs of their own. Branching out and setting up smaller packs in places that need protection. After the wedding, Malia and Scott will drive back to the small town in Oregon where Scott’s living while attending veterinary school.

They’ve grown up and moved out, but no one’s truly moved on. Maybe no one ever does, where Beacon Hills is concerned.

Still, feels good to see this new generation connecting. Seems like most of the folks Noah grew up with, or others his age, ended up single parents. Maybe it’s something about Beacon Hills itself, maybe they’ve all been supernaturally impacted. He’d think not, but even Natalie’s marriage dissolved in the wake of her elder daughter’s death long ago, and Noah figures that probably has something to do with their banshee lineage. And who the hell knows what scrambled Coach’s brain back when they were in high school. Such an intelligent man—still is, actually—but damn, Noah’s used to interpreting Stiles and Coach still confuses him.

On the other hand…. It seems sometimes like everyone’s connected.

Scott slow dances with Malia in the middle of the clearing, lights flickering all around them. Natalie’s with Coach, and well, she looks good with Bobby. Happy. Noah doesn’t begrudge them that at all. Lydia’s dancing with Parrish, and Mason with Corey. Jackson managed to come over from London, and he and Ethan have been handing out invitations and information about their wedding in a few months.

Melissa and Chris come off the dance floor hand in hand, veering by the bar so that Chris can grab a six pack of beer. He sets it on the table, cracks one open and hands it to Noah before giving one to Melissa, and keeping one for himself.

“Noah.” Melissa touches his arm, points to the dance floor. “When did that happen?”

It takes him a moment to follow where she’s pointing, then he spots them on the far side, almost in the shadows. For a moment he thinks it’s just Stiles being Stiles, but when they turn, he sees the look in Derek’s eyes. The way he gazes down at Noah’s son.

Besotted.

Well then.

Noah takes a long pull of his beer, lifts it in silent toast. “I have no idea, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Hope it’s good for them.”

“I’m sure Stiles will keep Derek on his toes,” Melissa says with a small laugh. “Can you believe this? Scott’s married. Stiles seems to have an actual stable relationship.”

“Scott married Stiles’s ex,” Noah observes, and Chris coughs, swallowing a laugh.

“Scott always has liked them terrifying in their own way,” Chris observes. “He and Stiles are a lot alike in that respect.”

“Speaking of Stiles and women.” Melissa hands Chris and Noah fresh beers as she takes her own. “Did you hear about Lydia and Parrish?”

Noah focuses on her, gaze narrowing. “Don’t tell me they’re getting married, because I’ve heard them both state often that they are never going to bother. Parrish doesn’t need it, and Lydia refuses to bow to the male hierarchy.”

“Still not getting married,” Melissa agrees. “But Lydia’s pregnant. Turns out she’s going to have the first pack baby.”

It’s not the first pack child, not by a long shot. Jackson and Ethan started fostering a boy a few years back, and Colin’s still in London with Jackson’s family. They’ve taken in kids more than once, and full families as well.

But this is the first baby born to one of their kids.

“Damn,” Noah exhales. “I’ll have to congratulate Natalie later.”

“She’s taking it well,” Melissa says. “She’s excited, I think, and since Lydia’s still in school, I think they’ll all be taking on some of the child-rearing.”

“It’s a pack child; they’ll have all the help they need.” It’s one of the things the pack’s been firm on over the years—no one gets left out. Noah’s helped arrange for child care for numerous pack members who were adopted in. He figures it’ll be the same for Lydia’s kid.

“Hard to believe we’re going to be grandparents already,” Chris muses. When Noah looks over at him, he spreads his hands. “You know that kid’s ours as much as it is Natalie’s and Bobby’s,” he says.

That’s a kick in the gut. “Bobby Finstock’s going to be a grandfather,” Noah mutters. “Bobby’s going to be helping raise a kid.”

“Could be Peter,” Chris points out, and Melissa laughs, leaning towards him. Chris puts his arm around her shoulders, kisses her forehead.

Noah raises his glass to Chris’s statement, glances away from their easy affection. They’ve been together for years, too, and at this point they’re comfortable together. It’s obvious that Chris and Melissa are solid. United. Even if they both say they’re never getting married again, Noah knows they’re forever. It’s obvious just to look at them.

He finishes the beer in his hand, pushes to his feet.

Chris leans forward. “All right, Noah?”

Noah gestures towards the bar. “Just going to go get something else, maybe take a walk. Take care of things.” There are a line of port-a-potties off to one side, because nothing says romance like a portable outhouse in the woods. It’s better than nothing, though, and it’s not like they’ve gone all out for fancy dress. Malia had no interest in a big gown, declaring them unfit for running or shapeshifting, and declared the wedding casual.

That part’s been nice.

“He’s fine, Chris,” Melissa murmurs as he walks away. There’s a low rumble of voices behind him, but Noah doesn’t listen in on what’s probably a private conversation between lovers.

At the bar, he grabs another three beers and heads into the woods after a quick stop to relieve himself. It’s not that he wants to drink alone—he’s well aware where that can lead. He just needs a break from all the happy loving couples that form the core of their pack.

It’s rough being the only single one, sometimes.

“You’d be happy for him, Claud,” he says to the sky after two of the three beers he grabbed are gone. Music drifts towards him from the party, along with loud shouts and some cheers. He thinks maybe the cake’s been cut, then dancing starts again. “Derek’s a good kid.” He laughs a little at that. “Not really much of a kid anymore. Derek’s getting close to thirty, and our boy’s out of college. He’s got a good job now, actually getting paid to go find packs in trouble. It fits in with what he wants to do. Rescuing the supernatural folks who are lost. And I don’t think that’d surprise you. Not based on what I’ve learned. Maybe figured out a bit.” He twists off the cap of the final beer, takes a long swig. “You knew, Claudia. You knew, and I don’t think you could tell me. Not allowed maybe, then everything crept in and scrambled it up in your head. I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you tried.”

By the time that last beer’s gone, he’s feeling more than a little drunk. Not dizzy or sick, just… happy. Floating. Like the world is a place where he can fit in, if he just tries a little. He starts swaying to the music he barely hears, dancing with the ghost of his wife. And when he turns into arms that are real, physically wrapping around him, he goes with the dance.

It feels good to be held, to close his eyes and be kissed. To feel a body pressed against his back and another against his front. To touch and be touched, and to say, “fuck yes,” with enthusiasm when a low voice murmurs, “Is this okay?”

It feels good to want and be wanted, to feel the softness of warm skin under his lips, the way a mouth is wet and warm around his cock. His shout is muffled by a kiss, and his knees go weak in the aftermath of his orgasm.

He doesn’t remember much of the rest of the night, but when he wakes in his own bed, he feels sated and pleased, and knows that whatever happened, it was a good time and he has absolutely no regrets.

 

 

**_Jackson & Ethan…_ **

 

Noah considers not going to Jackson’s wedding. It’s in London, so it’s a destination wedding for most of the pack, and that’s expensive. Even with Stiles out of the house, Noah’s finances aren’t exactly stable. He’s fighting with some bills leftover from a brief hospital stay after an injury from work.

But when he mentions it to Melissa over dinner, she glances at Chris, and then shakes her head and reaches across the table. “We’ll get a room with two beds,” she says firmly. “You’ll stay with us. Right, Chris?”

“Right,” Chris echoes. He gestures with his fork before Noah can manage to say anything. “Don’t think you can fight this, Noah. You’ve known Melissa a long time, and I don’t want to listen to her arguing. Just take the bed and share the costs and deal with it.”

“We’ll split it three ways,” Melissa says practically. “It’ll be a splurge, yes, but it’ll be good for all of us to get away for a little bit. We’ll coordinate our travel plans, too. We need a vacation, Noah. Time away from Beacon Hills, and Chris and I would like to have you explore London with us.”

Noah’s dubious, but Chris is nodding, gesturing with his fork for Noah to eat and move on as well. So Noah does.

Melissa stays in touch with him, making sure they have all their plans set and prodding him until he takes as much time off as she insists he should. When he complains to Chris, he gets texts that imply laughter and say, “just go along with it,” so he does.

By the time they get to London, Noah realizes that he’s actually looking forward to it. He has three days before the wedding with nothing to do but be a tourist with two close friends. And Melissa keeps them moving, to the point where by the time they’ve had dinner and a few glasses of wine, they’re all exhausted when they tumble into bed.

Noah’s certain he hears whispering, shuffling of sheets against skin from the other bed, but he’s tired enough that he sleeps before he can think too closely about it.

On the day of the wedding, they have the morning to themselves, which they spend quietly in the room. The wedding is just past lunch, in the same hotel, and the reception goes late into the night. Jackson’s happy, which is a strange look on him. Colin’s adorable, and obviously thrilled for his foster fathers. Lydia’s just starting to show, and she glows as she whirls around the dance floor with Parrish.

Not literally glowing, though. Noah wouldn’t be surprised if there are supernatural creatures that do that, but not banshees apparently. Thankfully.

He ends up at a table with the Whittemores and Melissa and Chris, and Noah tries not to think of it as the parent table, but there’s really no other way to put it. The Whittemores excuse themselves early to go talk to people, and Melissa leans in a little, and Noah leans closer to her reflexively, Chris mirroring the motion on the other side.

“I know Jackson says things have been better,” Melissa whispers, “but I can’t help but feel that those two are just missing something still. Like the joy’s been sucked out of their marriage.”

“She always wanted to be a rich wife,” Noah says softly, because he remembers her from high school as well. “She wanted to be a mother. Their relationship went downhill when she couldn’t conceive—I remember Claudia spending time with her then. And it was better for a bit after they adopted Jackson. Stiles says things are better now, that Jackson’s trying to be better with them, because of Colin. But I don’t know if they can patch the way they grew apart.”

Melissa reaches out and grips his hand tightly. She already holds Chris’s on top of the table, and she brings them both together. “Never let go of the things that are important to you,” she says seriously. “I mean it. We know just how hellish life can be, and if there’s something you love, keep it close.”

“Keep it alive,” Chris says, and Melissa huffs.

“That too,” she agrees.

She doesn’t let go of Noah’s hand for a long while, until she gets up to dance with Chris. And for a time, it’s nice to be included, as if he belongs.

When Melissa comes back to drag Noah out onto the dance floor, he goes with her for a slow song, swaying to the music. Chris breaks in as the song changes, and they somehow end up in a knot of people that includes Stiles, Derek, Danny, Malia, and Scott. Stiles cheers Noah on as he dances, and he just lets go and has fun.

He drinks a little too much in the aftermath, but in his defense, the room is warm, and he’s being unusually active. He makes sure to match each beer with a tall glass of water.

In the end, though, he’s feeling loose and calm as he says goodbye to Jackson and Ethan, wishes them well for their marriage. When Jackson hauls him in for an unexpected hug, Noah goes with it and pats him on the back. “Congratulations, son,” he murmurs, then does the same for Ethan.

Chris puts an arm across Noah’s shoulders, steers him toward the elevator. They have to wait for one to come down, and Noah tries to ignore the fact that he’s pretty sure that Stiles is exploring Derek’s tonsils.

“Maybe we’ll take the next car up,” he mutters, and Melissa makes a noise of agreement. When she elbows him, he spots Scott is almost hidden behind a tall plant, with Malia hoisted up, her legs wrapped around him and back pressed against the wall.

Chris coughs, and both couples stop abruptly. He raises his eyebrows and points at the elevator door opening with a ding, and they go in quickly. Malia waves cheerfully, her startled yelp cut off when the door closes just as Scott drags her close again.

“There are times when I am very glad I don’t have a werewolf nose,” Chris murmurs, his breath hot against Noah’s cheek.

“Oh, I don’t know. It might be inspiring.” Melissa winds her arms around Chris’s waist, and Chris doesn’t let go of Noah before he turns to kiss her.

This is awkward.

Another elevator dings as the door slides open, and Noah gets into it quickly, holding the door for Melissa and Chris. He tries not to watch as they kiss gently, murmuring things to each other that he can’t quite hear.

They all get ready for bed quickly, and as Noah lies there in the darkness, he’s still pleasantly loose and relaxed from the drink, but he’s not tired this time. And he can hear them, the soft laugh from Melissa and the low rumble from Chris. The click/snap of something being undone, and the rustling of sheets moving.

His eyes adjust to the moonlight, and he sees them lying side by side, the shadow of Chris’s leg under the blankets, thrown across Melissa, the way their hips move.

The low moan as Chris ducks his head beneath the covers, and the way Melissa clutches his head to her breast.

Damn it.

“I’m just going to—” Noah cuts off mid-mumble as he slides out of bed and hurries into the bathroom, closing the door before he clicks on the light. He leans against the sink, his cock already hard enough to tent his boxers. He’s old enough that either he’s going to stay in here long enough to wait for it to go down, or he’s in for a nice extended jerk-off session. Nothing’s quick anymore, not at his age.

A shower might help.

He twists the water on, finds the right temperature before he strips and gets under the steady stream. It’s not a great shower, but it’s not bad for a hotel, with decent pressure and a good amount of hot water before it’ll run out. He leans one arm against the wall, bracing himself before he gives his cock a small tug, testing the waters.

Fuck yes, that feels good.

He soaps up his hand to get a little bit of slick before he goes again, from the root to the tip, rotating tightly over the head the way he likes it. He bites back a grown, widens his feet a bit to give himself a more stable stance.

It’d be embarrassing as fuck to fall in the shower while getting off. Imagine trying to explain that broken hip at the station? Definitely not a good idea.

He’s just finding his rhythm when there’s a soft rap at the door. At first he thinks it’s something he overhears through the walls (please don’t let it be someone he knows getting it on next door), but then he hears a soft call of, “Noah?” after the next tap-tap-tap.

He slows the motion of his hand, loathe to stop completely when he’s getting close. “Yeah?” he calls back, coughing to clear his throat. He sounds ragged, and he inhales, steadies his heart. “Sorry, did I wake you up? Couldn’t sleep.”

The doorknob clicks, a soft hiss of steam escaping the room as it opens just a tiny bit. Melissa’s voice is clearer now. “We weren’t exactly asleep,” she admits. “Want a little help in there?”

What?

“What?” Noah says, every other word fled from his brain. He turns slowly, tugs the edge of the shower curtain back as the door opens. He can see them through the misty steam in the room, both completely naked. Chris’s erection stands proud, bobbing a little as he moves into the room. Melissa’s breasts sag a little, but are tipped with tight nipples, a purpling love bite showing dark on her right breast.

“Help,” Chris says, voice low and firm and god damn if that doesn’t do something strange to Noah when it goes straight to his dick.

He opens the curtain more in invitation, rather than say something.

Melissa reaches out, covers his hand with her own. “Is this okay?” she asks. She doesn’t move when he nods, waits until he’s able to say it aloud.

“Yes,” he manages, voice hoarse. His gaze flicks from her to Chris, uncertain. He climbs out of the shower then, leaving the water still running until Melissa thinks to twist it off. “I just—” Noah looks back at the shower. “Might be easier if we didn’t have to worry about falling. Shower logistics are for the kids,” he says.

Chris laughs, but he takes Noah’s hands, pulls him closer. Chris’s beard scratches Noah’s skin as they kiss, and it’s good. It’s really good.

They end up on Noah’s bed, with Noah stretched out, and Chris covering him. Melissa straddles Noah’s head and he licks her, lingering over every moan he can manage to get from her. As he presses his tongue into her, he finds Chris’s tongue meeting him there, and they kiss while they both lick her to orgasm.

When she lies down next to them, Chris gets his hand around his cock and Noah’s, and they rock together in earnest. Chris’s kisses taste like Melissa, and his thrusts are rough and strong over him. Melissa reaches where she can, tweaking Noah’s nipple until he thrusts up hard against Chris, and Chris growls and presses him back down.

Noah comes with Chris’s mouth covering his, and Melissa’s hand on his balls, and it’s strange how much it feels like coming home.

They fall asleep still covered and sticky, and in the morning it should be awkward and somehow isn’t. After they shower and dress, they fly back to Beacon Hills and go their separate ways, and everything goes back to normal.

 

 

**_Mason & Corey…_ **

 

When Mason and Corey insist that everyone get a hotel room for their wedding, so that they don’t have to worry about people driving after the open bar, Noah doesn’t hesitate to ask if Melissa and Chris might want to share again.

They do.

There’s a hotel block for the wedding party—everyone’s going to be housed on the third floor, off in their own wing so they can be as noisy as they want for all hours. Noah takes care of the reservation this time and makes sure to request to be as far from the party as possible.

When Stiles asks why, Noah explains that they’re old and easily tired, and they might want to actually sleep.

He should probably be annoyed that Stiles accepts the explanation so easily, but it works in his favor, so he’s not.

The reception is torture, in its own way. It starts at seven and doesn’t end until midnight. Mason’s family is large, and nearly as rowdy as the pack itself, making up for the fact that the pack is the entirety of Corey’s family. They celebrate cheerfully, Liam shouting toasts to his best friend at random moments, until everyone has chugged more champagne than is strictly safe.

No one is sober; the hotel was definitely a good idea.

This isn’t a drunk decision, though. Not this time.

Noah’s thought about this weekend for a long time. Planned for it. Packed for it. Right up until the reception, he’s worried that maybe he’s got it wrong. Maybe this isn’t going to be a chance to fit in again.

Then Melissa settles onto his lap while he talks to Chris, wiggling her bottom in ways that are all too arousing, and Noah feels like he’s sixteen again. They’re in a back corner and he watches as Chris manages to quietly work a hand up Melissa’s skirt, and while Noah can’t see what Chris is doing, he can certainly feel the way Melissa squirms in response. He hears the soft, “oh, oh, oh,” and the sudden whimper before she sighs and relaxes.

Chris grins, winks at Noah. “It’s not so easy for us guys, is it?” he says.

“Depends on where you are, and where you put it,” Noah quips back. When Chris licks his lips, Noah’s pretty sure he’s guessed one thing right—Chris was the one swallowing him down after Scott’s wedding, in the woods.

Melissa’s cheeks are flushed, her lips bitten red. She straddles Noah backwards, reaching down between her legs to palm his half-hard cock while she leans forward and grips the nape of Chris’s neck. She pulls him close and kisses him, then slides off Noah’s lap, leaving him to adjust himself. “I want to dance,” she says, holding out her hands to both of them.

Nothing’s obvious on the dance floor, at least, Noah hopes to hell that it’s not. He spots Lydia watching them, but Noah takes advantage of that and asks her to dance, spinning her on the dance floor before he returns her to Parrish and hopefully distraction.

Chris settles in behind him as soon as Noah returns to him and Melissa. They stick to the fast dances, and fast touches, teasing in feathery light moments. Noah never quite makes it past half hard, but he can’t seem to make it to soft, either. His skin is alight with the promise of what the night might bring.

Melissa and Chris excuse themselves first, leaving while Noah’s deep in conversation with Derek and Parrish about a case they haven’t been able to crack yet. Maybe it’s not appropriate wedding talk, but Noah’s hopeful he might be able to get a few ideas from Derek to change how they’re looking at things, and Parrish is always interested in useful information about the supernatural.

The conversation ends when Stiles comes over to say, “Lydia’s looking for you, Jordan,” before he drops down onto Derek’s lap and kisses him thoroughly.

“My cue to leave,” Noah says gruffly, and does exactly that before he can see more of his son’s and Derek’s relationship than he cares to.

The hotel is quiet on the fifth floor, in the opposite corner from where most folks from the wedding will be staying. Noah slides the key card into the slot, nudges the door open after it clicks.

He doesn’t know what he expects, but somehow he thought more nudity would be involved. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“You could have gotten a king bed,” Melissa says. She’s sitting back on one of the beds, luggage piled on the other as if no one needs to use it. The door to the bathroom is open, steam floating through the air, warming it as the shower runs.

Noah swears he hears Chris singing under his breath as he showers.

“I didn’t want to assume,” Noah says.

Melissa grins, points to the front pocket on his luggage which is open, a strip of condoms peeking out. “Yes,” she says. “You did. So did we.”

Noah thinks that should ask what this is. Why this is. What are they doing here and how much time does he have with them? That maybe he should get a few answers before they fall into bed and the bliss of some very pleasant orgasms.

Or maybe he should just shut up and enjoy himself.

The shower goes off, and a moment later Chris walks out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry.

And there’s the nudity Noah was expecting. His cock twitches, and there’s a part of him that’s a little surprised. He’s never really thought of himself as attracted to men until Chris, but apparently he is. It’s new, and something else he’s not sure he really needs to evaluate. The fact that his cock acts like Pavlov’s dog with a dinner bell every time Chris comes into view is enough evidence for him that this is just the way he is now.

Chris points to the bathroom. “Shower, if you want. No one will fault you either way.”

Noah’s pretty sure there’s something he’s missing there, but he’s not quite catching on to it. He’ll have to do some reading at some point, maybe, if this thing—whatever it is—is going to continue.

Chris tosses the towel to him, reaches down to idly stroke his cock. Melissa slides off the bed, comes over to Chris and presents her back so he can tug down the zipper of her dress.

Noah’s torn between hiding in the shower and watching the show.

And helping.

He drops the towel over the back of the chair. When Melissa’s dress falls loose, Noah takes the front and helps draw it off, over her shoulders. “Is this okay?” he asks, as Chris pulls out the pins from her hair.

Long curls fall across her shoulder as she smiles at him. “More than,” she says. She reaches out to frame his face, pulling her to him to kiss him thoroughly. When she pulls back, Chris is watching them both, his hands curling around Melissa’s body to cup her breasts, teasing at her nipples.

“Noah,” Melissa says softly, her hands still on his face. “We want to be here with you tonight. In all ways that you want us. Condoms, lube, old bodies and all. Now you tell us, is that what you want?”

He nods, not trusting his voice. It takes a moment before he can find words. “Might be a little rusty,” he says. “But I’m in.”

“You’ve done just fine that last couple of times,” Chris says. “Help me get Melissa undressed, then it’s your turn.”

Noah kneels to help pull Melissa’s dress down, then slowly unrolls her stockings as well. Chris keeps her balanced as she lifts first one foot, then the other, for Noah to pull them off. By the time he’s done, still crouched on the floor, Noah can smell the musk of Melissa’s arousal, as Chris presses close to her from behind, his cock parting her damp lips.

“Watch this,” Chris says, dipping his fingers between Melissa’s folds. He opens her up, rolls her clitoris under his thumb as she shudders. Noah shuffles closer, holds onto Melissa’s hips as he dips his tongue into her and helps Chris take her through her orgasm.

Melissa combs her fingers through Noah’s hair. “That was nice.” She wiggles out from between them, and Noah’s left on his knees, Chris’s hard cock right there in front of him.

Sometimes it’s easiest to figure out the new experiences by just leaping right in.

Noah reaches for Chris, strokes along his length and notes the differences between Chris and himself. A little longer, a little thicker. A different bend. Uncircumcised, whereas Noah had a proper bris as an infant.

Chris stands there while Noah strokes, watching him. Melissa combs through Noah’s hair, stroking the top of his head. They both give him time to make the decision before he leans forward, carefully taking Chris’s cock in his mouth.

It isn’t easy, and Noah silently apologizes to every woman who’s ever sucked his cock before for not realizing that. It seems abruptly bigger once it’s in his mouth, and he’s not sure how to take it all in, or how to keep his teeth out of the way. He uses his tongue to make up for his inability to take the full length, and it’s sloppy and wet, and he’s not sure he’s got enough suction as he slowly bobs up and down, doing his best.

“Fuck,” Chris swears, and Melissa crouches down next to Noah and helps him sit back.

“You should stop,” she whispers. “Unless you want him to come right now.”

There’s a thin drip from the tip of Chris’s cock, and Noah can’t resist reaching for it, using it and his saliva to stroke Chris again. When Chris sways into his touch, fucking into the circle of Noah’s fingers, Noah thinks Melissa might be right. “You close?” he asks.

Chris takes a careful step back. “Very.”

“I think we need Noah naked. Now,” Melissa says.

There’s no ceremony about it as Noah quickly toes off his shoes and kicks them away. Chris undoes his trousers and pulls them down, while Melissa unbuttons and pushes off his shirt. Chris leans in to kiss Noah’s erection through his underwear, and Noah shoves those down as well.

For a moment he thinks he’s going to get to watch Chris suck him, but Melissa swats his ass instead. “Bed,” she orders, and they all go.

Melissa brings the condoms and grabs a tube of lube from her own luggage. Noah isn’t sure what to expect when Chris lies down on his back, then Chris spills lube onto his fingertips, brings his knees to his chest and manages to work the tip of one finger into his own ass.

Oh.

Another thing Noah’s never really thought about before tonight, and yet, his cock is hard as a rock in anticipation. Melissa curls her fingers around him, stroking a few times before she grabs a condom.

“We’ve been thinking about this,” she says. “And we have a lot of ideas, but this one was the one we decided we wanted most. If you want to.”

As if Noah would argue. “Tell me what you want,” he says.

Melissa takes the lube from Chris, spills it over Noah’s hands. “Open him up while I get a condom on him, then put a condom on yourself. I’m going to ride him while you fuck him.”

The word drops like a tiny bomb from her lips, and Noah has never been so aroused to hear her curse before. “Is that what you want, Chris?” he has to ask.

“Hell, yes, it was my idea.” Chris sits up as Melissa props pillows behind him, and another under his ass. He reaches for Noah’s hand, guides it to his ass. “I’m ready to take two fingers, just press in nice and easy, okay?”

It’s tight. There’s a moment of hesitation, where Noah’s sure this isn’t going to work, then the tips of his fingers slide into Chris. It’s hot and right, and Chris groans as Noah slowly fucks him open. Melissa has Chris’s cock in her mouth, and Chris grips her curls tightly, his hips shifting between fucking between her lips and pushing back on Noah’s fingers. When she pulls off, he moans, hips shifting against the air.

She quickly tears the condom wrapper open and hands it to Noah, then grabs another condom so she can roll that one down over Chris’s cock.

Right.

Noah’s hands shake as he rolls the condom over his own cock.

Melissa straddles Chris, facing away from Noah. She lowers herself on his cock, her back bowing as she sinks down. Her moan is long and drawn out, breath hitching at the end. When Noah looks, Chris is slowly circling her clit with his thumb as she rocks on his cock.

Chris glances up, meets his eyes as he lifts his ass. “Please.”

Okay then.

Noah fits himself between Chris’s spread legs, carefully presses the tip of his cock against Chris’s hole. He closes his eyes as he presses forward, feels that momentary resistance before Chris relaxes and he slips in. It’s slick, plenty of lube to ease his way, and Noah goes balls deep in only a few strokes.

“Fuck, yes,” Chris whispers as Melissa starts to move.

Noah holds Melissa, letting her lean back against him, his hands teasing at her breasts. She whimpers when he twists her nipples, rolling them between his finger tips. When she whispers, “Fuck, yeah, oh, fuck,” he does it again, letting her rise and fall over Chris as he holds her.

Chris is moving enough for Noah, fucking into Melissa and back on Noah’s cock; Noah almost doesn’t have to do anything at all. It’s a little awkward as he tries to move until they manage to find a rhythm, the three of them moving in sync. It works right until Melissa’s cries become sharp, her movements more frantic. Noah doesn’t think about it as his hips jerk forward, pressing harder into Chris, and Chris grunts, gripping Melissa’s hips.

Melissa goes tense, shuddering as Noah’s thighs are tight with impending orgasm. He lets go of her, takes her full weight so he can grip Chris’s hips, pound into him as he reaches for that blissful cliff. When Chris clenches down around him as he comes, Noah grunts through his own orgasm, filling the condom.

He pulls out and carefully tugs the condom free, tying it off before he tosses it in the trash. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chris doing the same, while Melissa curls next to him.

Noah hesitates, and when Chris reaches for him, he joins them.

There are slow kisses in the aftermath, and gentle bickering over who has to get up to get the light (Melissa does).

Noah still hasn’t asked what this is, or if they plan on trying any of the other things they discussed. It’s enough that it just is, at least for now. It’s good to be wanted.

 

 

**_Lydia & Parrish…_ **

 

Noah isn’t sure which spring wedding is less expected—Stiles and Derek’s wedding, coming up in just a week, or this surprise elaborate wedding for Lydia and Parrish.

Lydia stands at the front of the room, and Noah has no idea how she managed to get a gown this fast, particularly one that fits when she’s due to give birth any minute now, he thinks. Parrish has already put in for parental leave from the station, so he can be ready to run when Lydia calls to tell him it’s time. Still, Lydia looks beautiful in a long formal gown the manages to flow over her burgeoning belly.

“I am not caving to societal pressure,” she snaps. She gestures, and Stiles stands next to her, adjusting his position when she wrangles him into the right spot. “This is not about being married for the baby’s sake. It is, however, about the fact that you are getting married next week and I refuse to allow you to be married before I am.”

“Even if you were never getting married,” Stiles retorts, deadpan.

Lydia hesitates only a moment before saying sharply, “Yes. Of course. Now stand right there and do not move. I have a husband to find.”

“Do you think he’s run off?” Chris murmurs, his breath hot against Noah’s cheek. Chris’s hands rest on Noah’s sides, and it feels comfortable and familiar all at once. There’s a moment of worry that they are in front of the pack, here, but it’s a smaller crowd than usual. Scott and Malia couldn’t make it back on a moment’s notice, not when they’re already flying out for Stiles’s wedding in a week. Mason and Corey are at school, Jackson and Ethan are still in London, Liam’s… somewhere. Noah’s lost track to be honest.

“I think he’s smoking in the bathroom,” Noah says dryly. “Literally smoking. On fire. It happens sometimes when he gets nervous. It’s a damned good thing that Lydia’s apparently fireproof.”

“Wait!” Stiles calls out, and Lydia stops at the door to the room, turning back, one eyebrow arched quizzically. “So are you saying that this is all about me?” Stiles yells.

“It is not all about you!” Lydia yells back.

“You love me!”

“Right now I hate you, because you are trying to keep me from finding Jordan!” Lydia stomps one small foot. “Do not get in the way of the pregnant woman, Stilinski, or she may just revoke any promises to be a surrogate for you and your husband in the future. Pregnancy is not fun!”

“I’ll rub your feet,” Stiles promises. “Or make Derek do it.”

Noah notes that despite antagonizing Lydia, Stiles hasn’t moved an inch from where she placed him. His gaze narrows as he looks at the door and sees Parrish slide into view, vestiges of smoke still drifting through the air around him.

“Let’s get married,” Parrish says, and Lydia throws her arms around him, burying her face against his throat. Parrish lifts her, carrying her bridal style to the front of the room.

Coach emerges from a side door, Natalie close behind him. She hands him a small book as he takes his place at the front of the room, and he looks at it in some confusion before comprehension seems to dawn. He lets her open it for him, then she kisses his cheek and walks away.

“Get over here,” Coach snaps, gesturing at the place in front of himself.

Melissa joins Chris and Noah, slipping between them as if she’d never been gone. “I’d say he has cold feet, but that man is literally on fire,” she murmurs. “I think he’s more nervous about disappointing her than anything else.”

“That’s the thing about love,” Chris whispers, his touch light against Noah’s back as he reaches past Melissa. “As long as they love each other, they’ll work through it. He’ll work for it, won’t he?”

“He’s a hard worker, and that’s a good thing,” Noah replies.

They falls silent when Coach glares at them. “I thought there would be more of you.”

Derek isn’t there; he’s flying in two days from now to get ready for his own wedding. So this is it. Lydia and Parrish. Natalie and Coach. Stiles, Noah, Chris, and Melissa. It’s a small wedding, but no less significant.

The pack keeps growing. Changing. It seems like it’s a good thing to Noah.

And from the bright light in Lydia’s and Parrish’s expressions as they hold hands and look at each other, it’s a good thing to them as well.

Somehow Coach manages to stay on track through the ceremony, only deviating into quoting _The Princess Bride_ once before Natalie nudges him back on track. There are tears in his eyes as he pronounces them married and adds, “Just kiss, damn it.”

And Parrish does, gathering Lydia close like she’s precious, nipping at her lips and kissing her softly. It’s an intimate moment, and Noah looks away, feeling like he should give them some privacy.

There is no reception, only a late lunch at the diner, where they take over the entire back half of the restaurant. Lydia hikes up her flowing skirt and puts her feet on Stiles’s lap, gesturing imperiously until he unlaces her boots and slips them off to rub her feet. She leans back against Parrish, kissing him idly when Stiles pauses in his task long enough to tap his spoon against his glass.

“Do that again and I will kick you someplace you’d rather I didn’t,” Lydia says, but there’s no heat to it. And when he gives the glass one more tap, she kisses Parrish perhaps more enthusiasm than is necessary in a public place, but Stiles doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s funny how, eight months later, these weddings seem almost normal. The new truth of the pack, the way things are.

“Come back to ours tonight,” Melissa says.

Stiles cocks his head, turns to look at Noah briefly. Noah lifts a hand, and Stiles waves before going back to what he’s doing.

They’ve been less cautious in the last few months. Noah spends more time with Chris and Melissa. There have been books and videos, and by this point, Noah halfway believes what he’s doing as long as they’re in bed.

The rest of the time he’s not so sure.

There hasn’t been any plan of coming out to the pack, but at the same time, it’s not always going to be possible to hide in plain sight. And Noah’s not sure he can do that.

“Besides,” Melissa continues, as if she hasn’t noticed his exchange with his son. “There’s something we want to talk to you about.”

Noah’s gaze narrows. “There is?” He really hopes that it isn’t something kinky that’s going to make him feel awkward and old. Panties weren’t that weird, but he’s not sure he’s into leather and whips. And handcuffs just make him think of work, which is a pity, because he’s seen some pretty creative videos by now. Maybe someday he’ll manage to get past that.

“Come on.” Melissa tugs Noah to his feet, and he realizes that Chris is already gone, probably to get a car. Noah takes a moment to make his goodbyes, congratulating the happy couple before they head out.

They’re silent on the way to Melissa’s house—now Chris and Melissa’s house. As soon as they get inside, Noah realizes that Melissa’s still silent. Chris being somber and serious isn’t strange, but Melissa is uncharacteristically serious.

And no one’s started getting undressed. There hasn’t been even one inappropriate touch.

“Shit,” Noah mutters. “Did you bring me all the way back here to break up with me? Because it would’ve been simpler if I had my own car.”

“What? No. No.” Melissa takes his arm, brings him into the living room. “It’s just. We really do want to talk to you about something. Serious. Something serious.”

Chris perches on the arm of the couch so that Noah’s bracketed with Melissa sitting on his other side. “Move in,” he says quietly. “You’re here half the time. Stiles and Derek are moving back here permanently, but the Hale house isn’t done yet, and they need a place to live. You can do something else with the house after, keep it as a pack house. I know you probably don’t want to let it go.”

Noah appreciates that Chris understands that that house still has Claudia’s spirit in the walls. He doesn’t think that’ll ever not be true.

“But move in with us here,” Chris says.

“We want you here, Noah,” Melissa adds. “With us. Openly.” When he cocks and eyebrow, she dismisses his dubious expression. “I think the pack can handle it. Just ask Stiles to research polyamory and they’ll all know everything about it in a couple of hours. We’re good together, Noah.”

“Not just in bed. Although that works, obviously.” Chris smirks. “And yes, I wouldn’t mind if you want to just keep coming over for that, but I think we’d all benefit by being together.”

“Family,” Melissa says quietly, her hand covering Noah’s.

They’re not asking him to replace Claudia. Out of everyone, he knows that both Melissa and Chris understand. And he does like what he’s got with them, loves being here and feeling wanted and needed. “It’s going to be—”

“Awkward?” Melissa offers. “I’m sure Stiles will have a million questions, and I know it’ll confuse Scott. I may have dropped a few hints, saying that you were coming over, and he just asked if you were coming for dinner and pointed out that it was late to be eating. Malia, on the other hand, I am fairly certain understood.”

Stiles understands. Noah’s sure of that, after the looks they exchanged today.

“Okay,” he says, and there probably should be more to it than that, but there isn’t. Not when he looks at it objectively. He’s been living in two rooms in the house, not counting the kitchen. It won’t take much to pack it all up, and it’s not like he needs to completely vacate the house before Stiles moves in.

The rest can all wait; they’ll figure out what to do with the house eventually. Someone in the pack will probably need a place to live in Beacon Hills someday.

“We’ll start picking up your things whenever you’re ready,” Chris offers.

“I’m bringing my chair,” Noah says, glancing sideways at Melissa.

“Oh, no, you are not bringing that thing into my house—” She stops, laughing, when he pulls her onto his lap. “Noah, that chair is an eyesore.”

“It’s my chair.” Noah lets his hands drift down to cup her ass, tugging her close. “And maybe I want to do a little bit of this in it. It’s been a long time since that chair’s seen any action.”

“Noah, that chair is awful.” Her breath hitches as he mouths at her breast through her dress, while Chris nips at her neck. “Unfair,” she mutters, hips shifting. “But fine, yes, I give in.”

Noah stands up, carrying Melissa with him. “Let’s take this to the bed,” he says, and Chris precedes them up the stairs to get the doors so Noah doesn’t have to drop her.

A little later, Noah’s on his back with Melissa riding him. He presses up into her, grips her hips as she leans over him, her nipple brushing against his lips. He catches it and sucks just as he feels Chris pressing into her ass. Melissa shudders through an orgasm from that alone, before Chris even begins fucking them both. She’s shaking again, crying out loudly by the time Noah comes.

As he draws her down for a kiss, Chris chasing him for one of his own right after, he thinks that everything’s going to be just fine. He fits here, with them.

 

 

**_Derek & Stiles…_ **

 

If anyone were to ask, this is a day Noah wasn’t sure would ever come. Oh, he knows his son is lovable. He just never thought that Stiles would tilt after someone available, or pause long enough to see someone looking. But here they are, standing in the middle of the Preserve because apparently this spot right here is where Stiles and Derek first met.

They stand hand in hand, and this particular wedding has an actual judge as an officiant. Scott stands by Derek’s side as best man, and Lydia, hands resting atop her belly, stands as Stiles’s Matron of Honor.

“And what was it you said? Get off my property,” Stiles lowers his voice in a gruff imitation of Derek’s voice, too deep to be accurate. “You threw Scott’s inhaler at me, which was actually pretty nice, all things considered. That thing cost a lot, and it’s not like we had any idea at that point that Scott was done with asthma.”

The judge coughs, and Stiles glances at her, brow furrowing before his expression clears. “Oh, right, right, vows. So. Our entire relationship started right here when you told me to go away, and then—”

Derek growls and Stiles cuts off abruptly as Derek pulls him close, shutting him up with a kiss. “C’mere,” Derek rumbles.

The judge sighs. “Do you, Mieczyslaw—”

“I do,” Stiles mumbles.

“I do,” Derek echoes.

Lydia snickers. “Go on,” she says. “It’s always interesting to watch someone try to convince them to stop once they’ve gotten started.”

“It’s a good way to lose a hand,” Scott agrees, nodding.

“We’ll consider the vows done, and by the power vested in me by the state of California, I declare you two married.” The judge raises her eyebrows. “You just keep doing what you’re doing.”

As far as ceremonies go, it’s better than Noah was expecting, to be honest.

There are pictures there in the woods, but they leave shortly after in a long caravan of cars. The road passes the site of the old Hale house, now all fenced off after being taken down years ago. The new construction started a month ago, right about the same time as Derek asked Stiles to marry him. It’s going to be a good year before it’s ready for them to live in, and Noah’s glad they’ve got his house to use in the meantime.

He glances at Chris in the passenger seat, and his view of Melissa in the rear view window. She wiggles her fingers as she smiles, then blows a kiss.

Yeah, after a week this is working out just fine.

It’s strange to go back to his old house like this. He spent the night there, in his old bed, so they could prepare for the reception. This may be Stiles’s and Derek’s wedding, but they’ve opened it up to celebrate for Lydia and Parrish as well. Two giant cakes dominate a table near the house, and several tables are laden with a buffet suitable for a pack and their human friends.

The music starts up quickly, and the alcohol flows easily. The entire neighborhood has been invited, because it was easier than worrying about noise complaints, even if it means needing to keep a few more wolfy inclinations in check. Noah figures the neighbors will go home, loose and relaxed from drink, and hopefully sleep rather than complaining when things get really rowdy.

He’s hoping his relatives just don’t notice anything odd about the other groom. He knows from experience that his mother-in-law is likely to be awake long after the pack makes it to bed.

And speak of the—well, here she comes, right on cue as if his thoughts have summoned her. “Hello, Mom.” He stands to greet her, kissing her cheek. She’s always been Mom to him, ever since Claudia first brought him home and she refused to let him call her anything else.

She settles into the folding chair, her hands on her lap. “So,” she says quietly. “I heard—”

“I told them to keep it down, Mom,” Noah says, because he knows exactly where she’s going with this. “I think Stiles forgets just how thin the walls are in this house.”

She laughs softly. “Noah. Dear. Yes, I heard that as well, but I know that they’re young and in love. I don’t fault them any more than I fault the two young men who are enjoying themselves over by the roses because they’re certain they can’t be seen.”

Noah follows that thought, but he can’t see anything at all by the roses.

Mom pats his arm. “Don’t watch, dear, it’s rude. If they wanted to be seen, the one young man wouldn’t have made them invisible. Now, Noah. When were you planning to tell me about your new lovers?”

He hesitates, because how can he tell Claudia’s mother that after all this time, he’s moved on?

“It’s a good thing you’re doing, letting Stiles live here until his new home is done.” She lowers her voice, soft and calm. She reminds him of the way Claudia spoke, with a similar cadence to her words, and a similar belief in the weird things that could be around them.

When he thinks about the fact that there is at least one couple with the potential to blend into their surroundings—effectively invisible—he has to wonder if perhaps Claudia, and Mom, knew more than they’ve ever really said.

“And he’s such a nice werewolf,” Mom continues, leaving Noah choking on nothing. “The Hales were always lovely people, such a good family for Beacon Hills. What happened to them was terrible, but I’ve heard that Gerard Argent finally got his due.” Her gaze narrows. “Christopher doesn’t seem to be much like his father, does he?”

That answers that question. “Chris is a good man,” Noah says firmly. “He’s a hunter, yes, but he’s a part of this pack, and he protects people who can’t protect themselves. We all do.”

“Then he’s a good man for you, and I’m glad you’ve found him, and Melissa, too.” She gestures, and Noah leans in so she can hug him and kiss his cheek. “You needed someone to bring the magic back into your world. Not that Mieczyslaw won’t; he’s always been like Claudia, hasn’t he? But they’re a bit more grounded. You’ll balance the pack well, you three.”

It’s all a bit much, and Noah’s head spins with how easily she’s accepted it. “You aren’t—”

“Surprised that you’re with two people?” Her eyes twinkle. “Or perhaps that you’re with a man?”

“That I’ve moved on,” he says quietly.

She covers his hand and Noah is keenly aware that he took off his ring years ago, back when he first dated Natalie. “Noah,” she says, her voice low and serious. She waits until he meets his gaze, and she touches his cheek to focus him. “Claudia would never wish for you to be alone. If anything, she’s watching over you and cheering you on. She loved you enough to wish for you to love again.”

There’s a lump in his throat and Noah can’t find words right then. He’s thankful for the shadow that falls over them, and the way Derek reaches out, escorts his new grandmother-in-law onto the dance floor, such as it is.

When she’s gone, Noah can breathe.

He’s going to have to unpack all of that someday, perhaps at a time that isn’t here and now and in the midst of his son’s wedding.

But he can’t help but look into the woods, where he strayed after Scott and Malia’s wedding, and wonder if Claudia’s ghost is here again to see her son’s happiness.

There’s a shriek, and for a moment Noah’s heart thumps worriedly before he quite manages to parse that the sound is a happy one. Multiple shrieks of glee and laughter, then one holy howl that has him searching for the sound.

Lydia, Malia, Natalie, and Melissa all stand together. Malia’s smile is falling away as she inhales in an obvious way. “That doesn’t smell like pee,” she says flatly.

Lydia holds her skirt up away from the ground. “Jordan!” she yells, tone sharp and tight. “My water broke! We need to leave. Now!”

“What?” Malia asks.

Natalie wraps a shawl around Lydia’s shoulders, ushers her off to one side as Parrish comes to join them. Noah crosses through the crowd to join Malia and Melissa, where Malia’s staring at the puddle on the ground. “Is she having the baby?” Malia asks, pointing at Lydia. “Wait, is that part of having the baby? Oh shit, this has to come out at some point. I have to have the baby. Oh no. No. This was a bad idea. Scott! Why did I let you get me pregnant?”

Melissa grabs both of Malia’s hands, tugs her slowly to a nearby chair. “Malia. Honey. Breathe with me. Please don’t have a panic attack. You can’t possibly try to tell me you don’t know anything about babies, do you?”

Malia exhales slowly. “I’ve seen plenty of babies born when I was a coyote. That looks like it hurts. I’ve never seen Lydia so upset. Did you hear her?”

“And Jackson and Ethan are going with them to the hospital to take her pain,” Melissa says, careful with every word. “And Scott will be with you when your baby is born. Aren’t you excited? I am. You’re going to have a new little McCall, and I’m going to have a brand new grand baby to spoil.”

Malia stands up abruptly. “Scott!”

He looks over from where he stands with Stiles.

Malia jabs her finger at the car where Natalie is helping Lydia into the back seat. “Go with Lydia to take her pain,” she orders. “You have to do it because you got me pregnant, and you’re the alpha. Take care of your pack.”

“But Jackson’s—”

Malia crosses her arms.

Scott hurries across to Lydia’s car. “You go with Jackson and Ethan, Mrs. Martin-I-mean-Finstock. I’ll make sure Lydia’s okay on the way there.”

Malia smiles and settles back down into her seat. “Everything will be fine,” she says. She looks up at Noah, grinning. “Did you hear, I’m pregnant! You’re going to be a grandfather!”

Noah almost corrects her, but when Melissa takes his hand, he realizes that Malia’s right. The edges have blurred and Scott’s always been like a son to him in a way, so yes. “Congratulations, Malia.”

There’s a soft pat on his other arm. “I like this one. Introduce me.”

Derek stands there, along with Mom, who is smiling sweetly at Malia. She holds out her hands, and Malia goes into them, leaning in to hug her and sniff at her cheek. “You smell like—”

“Coyote?” Mom says. She hugs Malia and says, “Call me Mom, everyone else will. Noah, I need to have more to do with your pack. I think I’ll be spending some time with Stiles. I should go arrange that.” She heads off, aiming for Stiles who is standing on his own after the cars have left with Lydia.

“She knew my mother,” Derek says quietly. “She’s going to talk to Peter. Malia, she—well, that’s Stiles’s grandmother.”

“That’s what she smells like.” Malia nods. “I understand now.”

“Noah.” Melissa squeezes his hand. “Maybe we ought to say our goodbyes now, and help folks pack things up. Lydia seems to have broken the mood, and Derek might want to spend some time with his new husband.”

“If Stiles doesn’t want to go to the hospital,” Derek murmurs.

“First babies take forever. Don’t let him drag you over there too soon,” Melissa tells him firmly. “Malia, go start getting the pack together, and help get Stiles’s relatives settled as well.”

“If Mason and Corey are still by the roses, you might want to let them know,” Noah offers. When everyone looks in that direction and no one’s there, Noah shrugs. “I didn’t see a thing, but….” He shrugs again, and leaves that as empty words. They’ll know what he means. Or close enough.

It takes some time to close everything down, but soon enough the music is off, and the neighbors and relatives have all left, except for Mom, who is inside and insisting that she’s far too tired to be bothered by any excessive noise, should it happen.

Stiles flushes brightly at her words, but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Derek takes him inside and firmly closes the door behind them.

Noah drives them home, and it seems so strange to say that, when he’s just left the house where he married Claudia and raises Stiles. They drop Malia off on the way, and despite excitement ending the reception early, it still feels late when they walk in the door.

Melissa walks in on bare feet, her shoes dangling from her fingertips. “Well, that was exciting,” she says. “I’ve already talked to Lydia, and she swears that if any of us show up at the hospital, she will make us regret it. Natalie promised to let us know as soon as the baby’s born, and suggested we give Lydia time to recover afterwards.”

Noah’s fairly certain that they might be the only part of the pack not there for the actual birth. He expects Stiles and Derek to go as soon as they’re done… doing whatever they’re doing. And he doesn’t think Malia will sit around at home, either.

There will be plenty of pack there.

Chris steps up behind Noah as Melissa stands in front of him. He bends down to kiss her as Chris pulls his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his slacks. Noah groans when Chris slides his hands into his slacks.

“I’ve wanted to get my hands on you all day,” Chris mutters. “Both of you. You have a lot of relatives, Noah. I think that was the biggest wedding we’ve been to in the last year.”

“But this one we don’t have a hotel room after,” Melissa points out. “We have a very large, very comfortable bed upstairs, and all the privacy in this house that we could want. No one complaining about noise. No one making noise next door.” She turns in Noah’s arms, and he tugs her zipper down.

She slithers out of the dress and leaves it lying there, puddled on the floor. Her panties are cotton, not lace, and her bra is a serviceable strapless, and she’s so gorgeous that Noah forgets how to breathe.

“I want to fuck you,” he whispers, and Chris huffs like maybe he was just going to say the same thing.

Melissa stands by the bottom of the stairs, and she crooks her fingers for them to follow her as she goes up. “Actually,” she says. “I’ve been thinking, and there’s something new I want to try.”

They don’t leap right into it. Melissa has a bottle of champagne stashed in the room as a surprise, and they toast to the pack, the marriages and the growth with new life. The bottle is empty by the time they are naked in bed. Drips of champagne stick sweetly to Melissa’s skin as she rides Noah, and he pulls her down to suck the taste from her nipples.

She whimpers when Chris straddles Noah’s legs to press in close behind her. Chris peppers kisses across her back, and Noah feels the slick lube as Chris slides a finger in next to Noah. “Okay?” Chris asks, hoarse.

“Yes. Fuck yes.” Melissa flattens herself against Noah, her hips jerking slightly as she slides herself down onto him.

Chris is wet and slick, well-lubricated when he makes the first attempt to slip inside of Melissa with Noah. It’s different from when they’ve shared her before—one in her vagina, the other in her ass. This time they’re both in one hole, barely fitting, and Noah can’t move at all. Chris shifts his hips and his cock slides along Noah’s, and Melissa whimpers, fingernails biting into Noah’s skin.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, fuck, oh god, don’t stop. I’m so… fuck, I love you both so much.”

Noah jerks in surprise at her words, one hand clutching Melissa, the other fixed on Chris’s ass, pulling him close. Chris slides in more, and Melissa cries out, shuddering around them. It’s too much for Noah and he grunts as his entire body tenses before he comes. It’s only another few thrusts before Chris comes as well, and they collapse in a sweaty heap on the bed.

“There is going to be one hell of a wet spot,” Melissa murmurs.

“That’s why we have a big bed.” Chris rearranges them so that they’re to one side, all curled together. Noah can still feel the edge of the wet spot behind him, but it doesn’t really matter, not when they’re like this.

“I do, you know,” Melissa murmurs, her voice soft and tired. “Love both of you.”

Chris coughs, clears his throat.

“I love you, too.” Noah kisses her forehead, looking at Chris just past her. He swallows hard, bites the bullet. “And you, too.” He wasn’t sure, even earlier that night, but he’s sure of it now. This is where he’s supposed to be at this point in his life.

It’s the kind of thing you find when you aren’t even thinking of looking, and his life is so much better for having stumbled over it.

Chris mumbles something as they’re falling asleep, and Noah can’t be sure, but it might have been _love you too_.

 

 

**_…and babies make five…_ **

 

“You forgot what now, Dad?” Stiles says. “After all those lectures when I was in high school, you forgot _what_?”

“I had help,” Noah protests, but as soon as he says it, he knows he deserves the dubious look Stiles gives him.

“In his defense, we all should have known better,” Melissa says. Her tone is meant to be soothing, but it doesn’t seem to have the effect on Stiles at all. Scott’s still frowning, like he’s not sure he heard right.

Malia is delighted. “We’re going to be pregnant together!”

“That’s—” Melissa cuts off, glances at Noah like he has an answer for her.

Chris covers Melissa’s hand, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiles. “Apparently so.”

“We can have play dates before they’re born,” Malia says solemnly. “It’s important that they hear our voices, and that they are around pack. They’ll bond best then. Which one is the dad?” Malia’s gaze flicks from Noah to Chris, and Noah feels his cheeks go warm.

“Actually….” Noah isn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

“Dad?” Stiles sounds vaguely strangled.

“We don’t know,” Melissa admits. “It could be either. Or both. I’m having twins, Stiles.”

“Both?” Stiles squeaks. He stands up, sitting back down when he can’t go far because Derek holds his hand. “I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t want to know,” Chris agrees, smirking.

Derek gives him a dark look.

Scott clears his throat, smiling slightly. “Are you happy about this, Mom? I mean, we’re all glad that the three of you figured out—whatever this is.”

“We don’t need details, buddy,” Stiles reminds him.

“I have had to endure listening to your computer when you were in high school,” Noah reminds him, and Stiles flushes.

“We’ve had a lot of time to talk about it, and we’re all feeling a little old to get started with a new life,” Melissa admits.

“Some of us older than others,” Noah adds dryly.

“But we’re happy, yes,” she says. She reaches for both of them, her hand warm where it rests in Noah’s. “We just might need a little help. Having babies wasn’t exactly in the plans right now. I actually thought it might be early menopause, but apparently not.”

“Actually….” Stiles starts to raise his hand, lower it. “No, no, never mind. Just. Dad. Promise me you will never have unprotected sex again. And that we will never have to discuss you and sex again. But just promise me, okay?”

There is an explanation behind that ramble, Noah’s sure of it, but he doesn’t feel like delving into it. Sometimes it’s easier to just make the promise. “I promise, son.”

“We’ll help,” Scott assures them. “We’ll all help, and well, there are three of you, so maybe that’ll make it a little easier. Even if you’re going to be grandparents at the same time as you’re parents.” He winces. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“Maybe not,” Melissa agrees.

#

It isn’t an easy pregnancy. Melissa spends a few weeks on bed rest around her fourth month. She tries to go back to work after, but even with only light duty, she ends up home again on the couch, with her feet up.

Malia is thrilled. She spends every day with Melissa, talking to both babies, which Noah knows all about because by the time he makes it home, Melissa has stories to tell him and Chris.

It’s a long pregnancy, and by seven months, Melissa is making noises about making sure this never happens again.

But she’s smiling when she says it, and Noah feels this ridiculous tightness in his chest every time he sees her, thick and round with their child.

When Chris is on his knees, kissing her belly, it’s even worse. They are gentle with her in the early months, and in the later months when she is put on restriction, they all agree to go without. Noah knows that he and Chris could take care of each other, but it doesn’t seem right. Not now.

Melissa hasn’t quite made it to eight months when she wakes Noah up early by gripping his wrist so hard he’s afraid she’ll break something. She grits her teeth, and he strokes her hair, trying to help her through the pain. She starts panting when it’s over, and that’s when he realizes that Chris isn’t in bed.

“Gone to get the car,” Melissa says between shuddering breaths. “It’s too early, Noah. They said it could happen. We were so careful.”

“It’ll be okay. We’ll get to the hospital and everything will be okay.” Noah tries to keep his voice even, but he’s scared too. Hell, he’s been scared ever since they found out. Are the babies going to be okay? All the tests say sure, but god damn it, they’re old for parents. And he just wants Melissa and the twins to be fine after this.

She cries out, and he gives her his hands, trying not to make a sound when she squeezes.

It’s been a long time since Stiles was born, but one important thought occurs to him. “How long were you in labor for Scott?”

She inhales, exhales. “About six hours. Why?” It hits her, right after that. “Oh. Shit.”

“We’d better get you to the hospital right away.” Noah helps her out of bed, finds her fresh pajamas and a jacket. By the time they make it downstairs, Chris is loading a bag into the car and has a door open waiting for them.

“Get in the back with Mel,” Chris says firmly. “I’m going to take it as easy as I can, but there are going to be some bumps.” He hands back a pair of squishy foam balls. “Save your hands, Noah. We might need those later.”

Chris has the audacity to wink, and Melissa huffs out a laugh before she grabs a ball and squeezes it tight enough that Noah’s more than glad to have his hands out of the way.

His phone rings when they’re not more than a few minutes away from the hospital. Noah grabs it without looking. “Yeah?”

“Dad?” Stiles sounds like he’s probably driving, Roscoe’s distinct rumble in the background. “Derek just took Malia to the hospital. Her water broke, and Scott wasn’t in any shape to drive. Malia was going to drive herself before we got there. I’ve got Scott in my car, and your number is second on speed dial so I figured I’d wake you up to tell Melissa.”

The sun is peeking through the clouds, painting the sky in shades of yellow, orange, and red. Noah has a feeling it’s going to be an interesting day. He considers putting the phone on speaker, but a glance at Melissa has him rethinking that idea quickly. “We’ll meet you there, son. Ought to be there in just a few minutes ourselves, but we might be busy. Oh and uh, you’ll need to break it to Malia that Melissa won’t be there with her when her baby’s born. Melissa’s a little busy right now.”

Chris barks out a laugh; Melissa squeezes the foam ball harder.

Stiles is silent.

Chris maneuvers into the hospital parking lot, grabs a ticket from the machine and pulls up in front of the ER.

“I’ve got to go, kid. I’ll call you soon as I can, or I’ll leave your names on the ward so you can find us. We’ll ask after Malia, too,” Noah assures him.

“I’m getting a nephew and siblings at the same time!” Stiles yells. “Dad! Is Melissa okay! This is early!”

“Got to go.” Noah cuts the call, shoves his phone in his pocket.

It takes some maneuvering to get Melissa out of the car and into a wheelchair. Once that’s done, Chris reaches out to drag Noah back in for a kiss. “Take care of her,” Chris murmurs. “I’ll meet up with Stiles and Scott. You see if you can get Mel and Malia’s rooms near each other.”

Noah nods. He and the orderly get Melissa into the hospital and up to the maternity ward to meet with her OB, and that’s when the world seems to go into overdrive.

It’s a blur, more than it was with Claudia. Back then, Noah was overwhelmed by the newness, the length of the labor (thirty-seven hours), and the intensity of becoming a father for the first time. This time there’s no time for worry. Melissa is declared to be at ten centimeters already and ready to push. Noah is dimly aware of arrangements being made for their children in another room, that the loud howling noises are Malia’s own labor, and then Chris is there with his arms around Noah and Melissa both as they hold her while she pushes the first of their children out.

Samantha is tiny—a loud, squalling mite that barely weighs four pounds. She has a shock of dark curls that are wet and gross and Noah can’t remember ever seeing something more magical. She’s whisked away to be weighed and checked, but Noah can’t leave because Melissa’s already struggling with Sam’s sister.

Dawn takes a little longer, arriving after her namesake, once the sun is fully up, streaming through the blinds. She’s bigger than Sam, weighing in at four pounds and six ounces, and she still feels like only a palmful for Noah. Her hair is just as dark, but shorter, plastered to her head, and she stares at Chris with big eyes the color of slate.

Chris takes her and holds her carefully, while Noah takes Sam back from the nurse and gives her to Melissa.

“Fuck, I am exhausted,” Melissa mutters, even while she deftly arranges the baby and her gown to allow Sam to root until she finds her nipple. Melissa winces, sighing slightly when Sam figures out how to suck.

“They’ve taken Dawn to weigh her and will be back in a minute,” Chris says. He sits on Melissa’s other side, one hand tangled in her hair, reaching out with the other to gentle touch Sam’s shoulder. “They’re beautiful, Mel. You’re beautiful.”

“Shut up and kiss me even though I have morning breath.” Melissa laughs under her breath as Chris kisses her, then she turns to Noah so he can do the same.

It’s funny how she steals his breath away, even now. When he meets Chris’s gaze, he thinks that must be what he looks like too, right now. All shock and wonder that this is happening at all.

The door slams open, and Stiles stands in it. “I have a nephew! Michael McCall has entered the world!” He stops dead, gaze dropping to where Sam curls against Melissa’s chest. His voice goes soft. “Is that my sister?”

“This is Sam,” Melissa says, motioning him closer. Noah stands to give Stiles his spot, turning when he sees a nurse approaching. He accepts the tiny bundle from her, and Dawn waves her hand in apparent irritation at being handed through the air.

“This is Dawn.” Noah brings her close, gives Stiles a moment to see her before he settles her onto Melissa’s chest as well.

“And this is why women were blessed with two breasts,” Melissa quips. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to this.”

“You got used to us,” Chris says.

“Oh my God, no,” Stiles groans. “Please, Dad, stop him.”

“It’s a parent’s job to embarrass the hell out of their child,” Noah says. “Don’t you remember your mother saying that? She’d be pleased to hear him, I think.”

Something shifts in Stiles’s expression, going soft. “Yeah,” Stiles says, quiet despite the flush in his cheeks. “Yeah, I think she’d be happy because you’re happy. And you’ve got family.” There’s a ding, and Stiles checks his phone. “Oh, hey, Derek says that Scott says that Malia asked to share her room with Melissa while they’re here overnight, okay?”

Melissa raises her eyebrows, and Noah reads the expression clearly: do they actually get a choice?

“That’s fine,” Melissa says. “Just give us a little time on our own, first.”

Stiles rises, gives Noah a hug. Noah grabs on, holds him tight, because damn it, this is his first born and he will never not be proud of him.

“Of course,” Stiles says, and there’s a shine of tears in his eyes when he steps back. “Take all the time you need.” A momentary pause, then, “I love you, Dad. Mom.” A small hiccup over the word. “Chris.” His voice lilts up at the last like he’s uncertain.

“Chris is fine.”

“We love you, too, Stiles,” Melissa says. “Now go keep my son from climbing the walls while panicking over being a new dad.”

“Right, I’ll go do that.” Stiles gestures at the door, back at them. “I’ll see you later. After you have time.” He shakes his head, and Noah recognizes that slightly lost expression of disbelief. He feels that right now. “Wow,” Stiles says, and he heads out.

Noah gets about five minutes of peace before his phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out to see a text from Stiles.

_You named your kids Sam and Dawn? Dad! That has LAYERS. OMG I knew you were a closet geek._

“Is everything okay with Malia?” Melissa asks as Noah puts his phone away. She lies back, limp and exhausted.

Chris takes Sam and Noah holds Dawn, keeping the tip of his finger at her lips so she has something to suck in her sleep. Noah stares down at his daughter—his _daughter_ , he never thought this would happen. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “He just wanted to say he liked the names.”

“I can’t believe I had a baby on the same day as my daughter-in-law.” Melissa groans softly. “I feel so old.”

Noah remembers her, just about a year and a half ago maybe, saying how young Scott and Malia were. And he remembers thinking how they all had each other. The pack. He meets Chris’s eyes, and together they reach for Melissa with their free hands, tangling them all together.

“We’ll be fine,” Noah tells her. Because they will be, he’s sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Note!**  
>  There was a brief moment where they considered “Sarah” as a name for one of the twins, but none of them really wanted to encourage fairy or goblin involvement in her life by naming her after the girl from Labyrinth. Wise, I think.
> 
> If you like my fic, you might also like my original serial (college! magic! queer characters! shapeshifters!) at [Welcome to PHU](http://welcometophu.tumblr.com).


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